


Dream a Little Dream of Me

by Wolves_of_Innistrad



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Dream Sex, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-18
Updated: 2015-09-18
Packaged: 2018-04-21 08:19:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4821965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolves_of_Innistrad/pseuds/Wolves_of_Innistrad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Barry Allen can't stop having confusing, incredibly intense dreams about a mysterious partner.  When he finds out who it is he's ashamed, then he finds out he was entirely wrong the whole time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dream a Little Dream of Me

          Soft hands splay over his, fingernails dragging lightly over a nipple and drawing a barely audible gasp from his lips. Kisses, so light, like a soft breeze, press against his skin.

          Barry has had this dream for nights already, but never does he get much farther than this. He wants to open his eyes, but he can’t, knows that when he does he’ll wake up and that phantom mouth is trailing lower and lower and he wants it to never end.

          That’s when his alarm rings.

          Grumbling and fussing at super speed with the covers, nearly tripping over himself, Barry crawls out of bed and slams the button to halt the racket. His briefs are too tight and his eyes bleary, but he rubs both, knowing what he’ll have to do before work. Drudging towards the bathroom, he wishes, for not the first time, that he could at least see the face of the stranger he keeps dreaming about.

* * *

 

          This time the dream has gone on longer, fingers roaming, exploring his body as he trembles beneath them, breathy pants the only noises he can hear with his eyes screwed shut. Those feather light lips flit insistently down his belly until they reach the thatch of hair above his cock, and faintly Barry realizes this should be odd, because he shaves quite well down there for friction reasons, but then his dream thoughts are being sucked out of his brain through his cock.

          It’s been a long time since Barry’s gotten a blowjob, but he’s pretty sure, even in a dream, this is the best one he’s ever had. The lips are plush and tongue skilled, fast but thorough. Inside his head he can feel himself chanting pleasepleaseplease, but his mouth won’t work, just keeps up that harsh breathing, a low keening sound erupting from his throat instead.

          Barry awakes before his dream orgasm, panting and sweaty. Part of him hopes the dreams never end, the intense feelings of longing that he experiences in them, of desire, more heightened than he’s ever felt. Another, rather lower part of him, wants to just get the orgasm in the dream and then maybe he won’t have to deal with this every night.

* * *

 

          By two weeks of having the dreams it’s become a form of exquisite torture, Barry always feeling on the precipice of release before awakening to the dulled reality of his room. One night he cries into his pillow as he doesn’t even get up from his bed to relieve himself, just grabs a tissue and works himself harshly, rough, nothing like the soft, gentle hands in his dream.

          He’s getting irritable at work, even during his duties as the Flash. Cisco has to reel him in when he nearly sends Mark Mardon through a wall from a particularly vicious punch. Of course as he tries to apologize to Cisco and explain, without really explaining, Weather Wizard gets away. Barry’s just glad the idiot didn’t hurt anyone else.

          That night Barry hopes the dreams end soon.

          Barry groans, writhing in the bed, strong hands clenching the sheets tightly as his cock is sucked deep into a throat. He’s been like this for what seems like weeks, but tonight it’s worked up faster, more to his speed. The sounds, the feelings, everything is on a high he’s barely able to comprehend before finally, finally he finds that glorious relief he’s been so desperately seeking.

          Honestly he’s not sure if he even exists right now, the waves of pleasure sending him out of this world, even in a dream state.

          To his surprise he opens his eyes as he gently floats down from his high, only to be met by his own smiling face looking down at him, cum dripping from his bottom lip.

          When Barry awakens this time it’s to sticky sheets and an embarrassing flush. He’s been fantasizing about himself all this time? It’s surreal in the worst way and honestly he can’t, he just doesn’t understand it.

* * *

 

          The new dream is almost worse. Instead of coming to without release and disgruntled, Barry wakes ashamed and in desperate need of a wash each morning.   The orgasms are still just as intense during it, but once he remembers that it’s narcissistic he feels ashamed. Sure he knows some people want to suck their own cocks, he’d even taken a couple yoga classes back in college to see if he could do it, but he shouldn’t be having the best orgasms of his life thinking about sucking himself off.

          Work gets harder, because he’s even more irritable now, and he doubles down on Flash duties, partly to keep his mind off things, partly to feel a little better about himself. He knows that helping others to make yourself feel better really isn’t giving him any points on the narcissistic scale, but he can dream.

          That’s why when Leonard Snart, Captain Cold himself, shows up on a newsfeed robbing one of Central’s biggest banks; Barry is a bit more than pissed.

          Flashing over, he disables Lisa and Mick rather quickly, before heading further in to find Snart in the vault. The man turns as he walks in and Barry tenses, ready to dodge a blast of cold, but instead finds Snart staring at him, eyes raking up and down his body before he seems to have to physically drag them away by turning his head. That was strange.

          But not as strange as the dark red blush slowly creeping into Snart’s cheeks as he tried, and fails, to not keep looking at Barry. Before Barry can comment on these odd turns of event, Cold seems to snap out of whatever it was and begins to fire at him. Flash dodges a few shots before going in close, not realizing Cold must have expected it and iced the floor right in front of him.

          Instead of grabbing the gun and running, as he’d planned, Barry barrels into Cold, toppling over the man and landing right on top of him. As he pulls his head up slowly something feels oddly familiar about this, but he doesn’t have time to think much about it because something is poking him in the thigh.

          Leonard Snart always came off as a hard man. As hard as ice maybe, if Barry was inclined to go with the puns Snart so loved. But never, in all this time, did he expect the man to be, well, hard.

          Barry felt it before his eyes glanced down and saw it. Leonard Snart, his arch nemesis, was sporting one of the biggest, most turgid erections he’d ever seen.

          Glancing back up to Snart’s face, he seemed in turmoil, trapped between wanting to say something, and trying desperately to hold back from making any sound. Everything felt a bit lopsided and Barry flashed away, turning his back for a moment and trying to get his wits about him.

          “I, um, let’s just… Let’s just pretend that I came in here and stopped you from stealing anything and you got away and nothing else happened? Cool? Cool,” Barry says quickly, only turning once he’s finished talking.

          Snart is still on the floor, still just as hard and flushed, panting a bit. If Barry didn’t know any better he’d, well, he’d draw some conclusions that were frankly absurd. “Snart?” Barry asks again, taking a step forward, and for a fraction of a second he wonders if this is some kind of mind game. Except, Snart looks so vulnerable, like Barry saw something he shouldn’t have, which, while totally true, still doesn’t explain how the most calculating and, he hates to admit it, cool, villain he’s faced has turned into a blushing gawker.

          “It’s Len,” Snart coughs, then a bit louder, “You can call me Len you know… Kid,” Snart says and Barry is still so confused. He’s about to start up when he feels someone smack him over the back of the head.

          He’s taken too much time, Lisa and Mick have recovered and he’s surrounded. He’d known he should have hid the guns, but really he thought that he’d have already gotten cold by now. Of course, at this moment he was trapped between the three of them, although Lisa and Mick both seemed to be smirking, and it didn’t seem aimed at him.

          “Come on Lenny, you can daydream some more later,” Lisa says, and the way she speaks it’s like she knows something he doesn’t, like this is a big joke that he isn’t in on.

          If that’s true, Snart doesn’t seem too happy about it, the almost pleasant pink flush turning to a murderous red as he stands and storms out of the room. At this point Barry doesn’t even try to stop them, he knows no one got hurt and they didn’t get away with anything valuable so much as he can tell.

          Also he honestly feels too awkward to move right now.

* * *

 

          That night the dream starts again, and again the blinding orgasm comes like white hot lave, burning his insides out and leaving him a pleasantly empty shell. When he sees his face again, this time Dream!Barry leans down and kisses him softly, like he loves him so much. It’s almost enough to make him gag on his own vanity when he feels, more than hears, his mouth begin to form words.

          “Scarlet…” the voice sighs and oh.

          That isn’t his voice.

          That isn’t his voice at all. The low timbre, the rumbling in his chest, but not his chest now, he realizes. No, he knows who this is, and it’s only confirmed when Dream!Barry reaches up a hand to his dream self’s face and whispers back “Len.”

          This time when Barry wakes up he feels less ashamed than confused.

          Why has he been dreaming about him giving Captain Cold a blowjob? And if that wasn’t bad enough, why is he dreaming of that happening, as if he were Snart and not himself? The whole thing is so irritating and crazy that he wants to call Cisco and ask him, maybe use that dream machine that he invented a while back.

          Except he really doesn’t want to go through this dream with anyone around, that would be even more mortifying than thinking he was getting off on his own doppelganger was.

          Seriously though, Captain Cold? Was he that fucked in the head?

* * *

 

          The next day Barry had resolved to just admit what had happened to Cisco and Caitlin and hope that they could find a solution to stop him having these dreams, and maybe he’d be able to avoid the really embarrassing parts.

          He didn’t really believe that, but a boy could hope.

          Of course, per usual, Barry can’t even get to his own problems before people are starting new ones he has to solve. Unfortunately for him, this one involves the very man he does not want to see on today of all days, Leonard Snart.

          He speeds off to where an altercation was reported between Captain Cold and another costumed villain who, quite frankly, sounded like he was trying to be Skeletor from Cisco’s description.

          “Really Cold, hanging out with He-Man wannabes now?” Barry asks, slightly amused at getting both the drop and first jibe at Cold. Cold, who seems to be more focused on the other man, even if his eyes do keep straying towards Barry.

          “Stay out of this Flash, this is between me and ‘Doctor Destiny,’ here” Snart spits, gripping the fabric of the new villain’s shirt tightly in his hand, other arm pointing the cold gun at his face. Barry really feels as if he should intervene, but then again he has no idea what is going on here and is hesitant to flat out take Snart down if he’s this upset. He did promise no more killing after all, and if nothing else that seemed to be the one agreement that Snart hadn’t broken.

          “What is going on here?” Barry asks, more so pointed at the new villain who seems mostly unfazed, maybe even a bit pleased by the turn of events.

          Doctor Destiny, or so Snart called him, let’s his eyes trail over to Barry, smirk growing wider by the second. “Those lips look awfully familiar,” the man says and his voice creeps Barry out to no end.

          “Shut up!” Snart shouts, pressing the cold gun harder into the man’s sternum.

          “Touchy, I guess you really are embarrassed Len,” the man sing songs, and it looks like Le- Snart, is about to lose control and ice the man right there.

          “Say one more word and your intestines will be frozen quicker than a T.V. dinner,” Snart sneers, and really he must be off his game to make such a lousy pun. “What?” the man snaps as Barry gives him a look.

          The Flash shrugs, trying to stifle a laugh. “Nothing, just not used to seeing you lose your cool,” he puns and the other men both groan. Although he swears he noticed the corner of Snart’s mouth turn up for a fraction of a second before he schooled as cowl back onto his lips.

          “Oh, he’s a feisty one; I can see why you like h-“ Destiny gets out before Barry swoops in, certain that Cold will make good on his last promise. True to his word, by the time Barry has him only a few feet away the cold gun goes off, freezing a lamppost solid.

          “Snart, stop this!” Barry calls and Len freezes, looking between the two of them.

          “Are you… Are you working together?” Snart asks, and there’s something unrecognizable in his voice, almost like hurt, or betrayal.

          Barry gives him a pointed look before turning to Destiny. “Does this really look like something I’d want to work with?” he asks, not sure if that’s too rude for the Flash, but at this point he really doesn’t care.

          They all trade jibes and threats back and forth for a few moments before Snart finally snaps, brandishing the cold gun at Destiny again. “Look! Just make it stop and no one gets hurt, alright Doctor?” Cold commands, receiving only a smirk in reply. “I just… I need it stop, and I-“ he looks at Barry, and Barry can sense the indecision in his voice when he says “I’ll kill you if it doesn’t stop.”

          “Come on, what did you do to Captain Cold,” Barry says, as if scolding a small child.

          “Oh, I thought I did him a favor, all those wonderful dreams weren’t enough for you Snart?” Destiny asks, and Barry steps back, thoughts turning to the dreams he himself had been avoiding. Of course now that he looks over at Snart they come flooding back and he can feel his face heat.

          His own blush can’t compare to Captain Cold’s though.

          “I told you to make it stop! Just, I’ll give you the money, just make it stop!” Cold shouts now, sounding more desperate than angry at this point. Like whatever is happening, whatever this Doctor has done to him, is breaking him inside. And that? That terrifies Barry in a way he can’t fully understand.

          “Look, whatever you did to Snart you better reverse it or you’re coming with me,” Barry warns, because even if he’s not inclined to take a meta, or whatever this guy is, in on another criminal’s word of wrongdoing, the sheer amount of emotion the normally stoic Snart is showing has him inclined to believe the other man.

          Doctor Destiny seems to consider this for a moment, noting the closeness of Barry, the Flash, to his position and seeming to figure he has no real escape route with Snart on his other side.

          “Fine,” he huffs, pulling a little stone form his pocket and aiming it at Snart. Barry is about to stop the attack when he notices relief washing over Captain Cold’s face and he hesitates, next moment watching Snart breathe a sigh of relief before turning cold again.

          “Ever do that again and I will not hesitate to send you back to the ice age,” Cold warns, sneering at Doctor Destiny before giving an almost appreciative nod to the Flash.

          Barry seriously considers taking this idiot in, but he can’t find a logical reason to do so when all he knows is that he’s messing with the other villains and crooks of the city, and that, while not entirely legal, is also not exactly illegal or a problem.

* * *

 

          After that day the dreams end, and Barry, eager to rid himself of the memory, studiously ignores any and all lingering doubts he had about it.

          That is, until Doctor Destiny attacks the city and he finds out he has the power over dreams. It doesn’t take a genius like Caitlin or Cisco to put two and two together there and figure out what the good Doctor had done to Snart, and by extension Barry.

          As he watched Snart, who had volunteered to help apprehend Destiny, along with Lisa and, even more surprisingly, Mick Rory, fight alongside their crew, he began to wonder if things couldn’t be different.

          Sure, Cold was still a criminal, still undermining Flash over and over again, but Barry hadn’t been too distracted to realize that all of Cold’s Rogues had fallen in line with the least of Barry’s stipulations. No more murder or killing, although there was definitely mayhem and danger, it was more controlled, planned chaos instead of roiling anarchy. And Barry could respect that, just a little. That Cold would change for him, maybe not completely, but in the ways that were important.

          Once the battle was over and Caitlin had patched everyone up, Cold had gone on his way with his sister and Mick, headed back who knows where and Barry… Well, Barry needed answers.

          So he followed Cold, all the way to a little brownstone in one of the quieter neighborhoods of Central City. It wasn’t a place he’d ever expected Cold to stay, but then again nothing about Cold seemed to be what he expected anymore.

          Once Cold got to his door he stopped, jingling his keys almost nervously before turning around.

          “I know you’re out there kid. For being the fastest man alive you aren’t very subtle.” Snart called out, not loud enough to draw attention, but enough for Barry to hear. He flashed out from the bushes and stood in front of Snart, pleased at the almost startled expression the man had to fight to hold back.

          “Jeez, I’m never getting used to that,” he drawled, and Barry laughed, light and easy. He’d found he no longer felt the anger he once had for Snart, and maybe part of that was the dreams, or wishful thinking and his own naivety, but part of him hoped it was something more. That he was seeing something in Snart that maybe others didn’t see, at least not clearly, and maybe, just maybe, he’d been partially responsible for that.

          “Give it time, Cisco says it’s more annoying than anything now,” Barry tells him, and he’s really not sure what to say. For as fast as his mind and body go, his lips stumble over words, halting, before Snart cuts him off.

          “Listen Scarlet, I…” Snart, Len he supposes, he can call him that now right, begins. “I’m guessing you figured everything out with the whole Doctor Destiny thing, haven’t you?” he asked, and there wasn’t any callous intent in his voice, more like resignation. Like a secret he’d been diligently trying to hide had just fallen out of the bag and here Barry was, eager to pick it up much to Len’s distress.

          Rubbing the back of his neck Barry looked at the man with a softer expression than he’d ever levered at him. “Yeah, I guess I had my ideas, but I kind of ignored it until all of this” he says, gesturing with his hand vaguely.

          “Well now you know,” Len grunted, voice gruff and distant.

          “Yeah, now I know,” Barry answered.

          What followed was one of the most intense silences he’d ever experienced. Barry being Barry though, couldn’t stay quiet for long.

          “So… Why were you dreaming about me? Was that all the Doctor’s doing?” Barry asked, and part of him knew this was the only chance Len had; he was giving him a clear out here. A way to let things go back to normal, how they’d been before.

          “Yes,” Len stated, and Barry tried not to look crestfallen, but he barely had any time before Len had smacked himself in the face and huffed “That’s a lie.”

          Barry looked at him expectantly and Len sighed again, turning his not so cold looking anymore eyes at Barry. “No, he made the dreams do, well, whatever they were doing, linking us I guess. And made them more vivid, last longer and repeat but…” and Snart seemed to be struggling here, so Barry took a step closer.

          “But you’d had them before?” Barry asked cautiously.

          “Yeah kid, more than I’d like to admit,” Len said, defeated. He was looking anywhere but at Barry now. Which was probably good, because Barry was pretty certain he couldn’t suppress the grin that was forming on his face.

          “So does that mean you like me?”

          “Like you? You’re a goody two shoes pain in my ass that takes all the fun out of my life and makes it harder to do my job,” Len rattled off, still staring at his own boots. “But yeah, I like you. And not even despite all of that, but because of it.” That time he looked up at Barry, and his face did this weird twitch thing when his eyes caught the way Barry was grinning from ear to ear.

          “What, why are you smiling like that Red?” Len asked, and he sounded off, scared maybe.

          Barry shook his head, still smiling, before taking another step closer, right into Snart’s personal space. “I’m smiling because when I came here I had no idea what I expected you to say, what I wanted you to say. But that? That was it.”

          There was a battle for control of Snart’s face by his emotions, surprise, hope, irritation, shock and long lost happiness warring. In the end he must have settled for shocked, which suited Barry just fine, because it would be perfect for what he was about to do next.

          “Really kid I’m not following what you’re sa-“ Len started, getting cut off when Barry’s lips pressed against his own, faster than lightning. Barry hadn’t ever used his speed to go into a kiss before, normally worried he’d hurt someone, or give away his secret, but Len was strong, and he already knew more than enough about Barry and his powers, so he didn’t feel he needed to hold back. A pleasant side effect of his speed was the almost crackling electricity that seemed to spark between them, like a static shock, but pleasurable instead of annoying.

          Once he pulled away from Len the older man’s face seemed to have morphed from simple surprise to one of astonishment. “Have you caught on yet, or do I need to slow down a bit?” Barry asked, teasing, and when did it become this easy to talk to Cold? To be with him? He wasn’t sure, but he found he didn’t much care about the answer, just about the man in front of him right now.

          He waited a moment before Len spoke, and when he did Barry bust out laughing. “There were actual sparks Barry. We had sparks between us,” he said, disbelieving.

          “I guess that heart isn’t so cold after all Grinch,” Barry said, poking the other in the chest.

          “I look much better than that mangy green abomination, Red,” Snart answered back, shock replaced now by that familiar cocky smirk Barry now realized he enjoyed a bit too much.

          “More like abominable snow man,” Barry chided, getting a smack to the arm from Len.

          “So this? This is something you’d want?” Len asked, and he still seemed a bit guarded, though not as much as usual.

          “I can’t say for sure but, I think so?” Barry offered, sensing the other man’s apprehension, and his own as well. “I don’t know how this could work, or if it’s even a good idea, but maybe, maybe we can just see how things go? Play it cool?”

          Now it was Len’s turn to laugh, and it was a low, rumbling thing that made Barry recall that dream he’d had, that they’d had. Reaching out, his hand settled on Len’s cheek, thumb brushing at the skin there, softer than he’d imagined.

          “Len…” he said, echoing the words he now realized he'd seen himself mouthing in that dream.

          “Barry…” Len whispered back, eyes alight with a hope and happiness Barry thought might have been dormant for years.

          “Why don’t we go inside, it’s getting chilly,” Barry opined, turning to look at the night sky and letting his hands rub up and down his arms. Sure, with the heightened metabolism he wasn’t ever that cold, but it was a bit nippy.

          “Going to warm me up Scarlet?” Len inquired, all smirking badass again.

          “Well, usually I like to take things slow,” that received a laugh from Len, “But I have been dreaming about something a lot lately and I feel that we might be able to make that a reality.”

          Len nodded, just barely managing to hide his eagerness behind his façade, and opened the door and let Barry in.

          That night Barry and Len re-enacted that dream. But this time when that orgasm hit, it was Len’s face he got to see afterwards and not his own. 

          it was better than any dream he’d ever had.

%MCEPASTEBIN%

**Author's Note:**

> So this was supposed to be up in time for day four of Coldflash Week, but I was too slow. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy it anyway! This was my entry for day 4 which was magical connection/telepathic bond/etc.


End file.
